


The Candle in the Window

by shiranuigenma



Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: As close to PWP as I'm probably gonna get tbh, Jealousy, Light Choking, M/M, Sexual Content, Somewhat Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiranuigenma/pseuds/shiranuigenma
Summary: In the distance, a lone candle flickers in the window of an otherwise dark apartment, calling Kakashi home.That candle is rarely lit, and only means one thing -Madara.





	The Candle in the Window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raendown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/gifts).



> This is smut. 2.6k of pure smut and I’m not sorry.
> 
> So this fic was originally supposed to be a birthday gift for Rae like 2 years ago but I couldn’t finish it and decided to write something else, so it’s just been sitting in my drafts folder (with a word count of 2k !!!!) waiting to be finished and HERE. IT. IS. FINALLY. I hope you like it!

Night falls over the village, painting the sky in hues of blue so dark it's almost black, lit only by the moon and scattered starlight. In the distance, a lone candle flickers in the window of an otherwise dark apartment, calling Kakashi home.

That candle is rarely lit, and only means one thing.

He takes to the rooftops as he passes through the gate, moving silently through the village until he lands on his balcony, sliding open the door to find Madara standing on the other side. He doesn't turn, but the way his posture shifts ever so slightly, the way the hand currently turning pages in a book stills, signals that the Uchiha is aware of his presence.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Madara asks after a long moment of silence, closing the book he's perusing. There's a short pause, then he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I expect not. Those who do not wish to be found-"

"Are you really here to talk about Obito?" Kakashi interrupts, unzipping his flak jacket and allowing it to fall to the floor, the heavy _thud_  prompting Madara to finally turn to face him. He doesn't answer his question, but the way he watches Kakashi, quietly regarding him with something akin to possessive desire in his dark eyes, tells him no, he definitely did not come here to talk about Obito.

"Were I a... jealous man," Madara says after a moment, eyes raking slowly down Kakashi's form as he toes his sandals off, "I would be upset that you spend so much of your time looking for him."

"Please," Kakashi scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking further into the room. Madara's eyes track him, narrowing when Kakashi flashes a smirk over his shoulder, the expression unmistakable even behind his mask. "You're a terrible liar, Madara. I've never met anyone as prone to jealousy as you are."

Madara moves almost faster than Kakashi can see, and then his back is to the wall, Madara's grip tight on his neck and dark glare fixed upon him.

"I suggest you watch your tone with me, Kakashi," he murmurs. Though his voice doesn't betray his irritation, the threat is clear, and Kakashi tells himself the shiver that rolls straight down his spine is the result of nothing more than the cool evening breeze wafting gently through the open door.

"Oh?" He knows that provoking Madara now is a dangerous gamble, but in this case, the reward is worth the risk - usually. Hopefully. He shifts his hips forward ever so slightly, resisting another smirk when he hears the Uchiha inhale sharply. "You could try to make me, I suppose-"

He can't hold back a soft, self-satisfied noise when Madara yanks down his mask and kisses him, all rough lips and invasive tongue and nipping teeth, the fingers of his free hand clenching into his hip. The bite of his fingernails stings even through the fabric of his shirt, but it's immediately forgotten the instant Madara's hand shifts, tugging insistently at the fastenings of Kakashi's pants.

The fingers still curled around Kakashi's throat tighten ever so slightly when he reaches for Madara's pants, a silent warning against the action, followed by a growl and a sharp nip at his lower lip when he ignores it. Kakashi is sure he intends it to be harsh, for him to recoil and rethink what he's doing, but the quick action has the opposite effect - rather than make him reconsider, it only encourages him.

Until Madara speaks, that is.

"You can continue what you're doing," he says quietly, drawing back to fix Kakashi with his dark glare, "or I can touch you. It's your choice." That gives him pause - does he trust that Madara will actually do that if he stops, or does he call his bluff?

In the end, his impatience wins. He ignores every warning Madara gives him against it and tugs at his pants again, and before he can blink, Madara cuffs both of his wrists in one hand and slams them to the wall above his head.

"I warned you," he growls, eyes crimson as they meet Kakashi's once more, and he realizes what is happening a second too late.

He is helpless to resist as the genjutsu takes hold - he can do nothing but surrender to the illusion, to the imaginary promise of what is to come.

When Kakashi comes out of it with a sharp exhale, there is a strange spark of mischief in Madara's eyes, a hint of something dark and a little devious as his free hand dips down, fingertips grazing the hard line of Kakashi's cock through his pants. It's a quick, teasing touch, gone before his hips have even finished bucking into it, and he whines, hands straining uselessly against Madara's hold. Aching desperation winds between his ribs - desperation to touch, to taste, to strip away the layers that separate them as though he thinks pressing his heated flesh against Madara's will be enough to quell the desire now singing through his blood, but Madara is unrelenting.

Suddenly, Madara releases him, stepping out of Kakashi's reach before he can grab for him. The look in his eyes changes, and something about it holds Kakashi in place as easily as his hands had.

"Undress," Madara commands. His voice is quiet, but holds an undeniable authority that could carry as easily across battlefields as it does the limited space between them. It's a tone that tells him he has no other option to obey.

Not that he would make any other choice.

Madara's eyes follow Kakashi's every move as his fingers curl beneath the edge of his shirt, dragging the garment over his head and dropping it to the floor. The rest of his clothing quickly follows, and finally, he stands bare before Madara.

Kakashi's wary gaze follows Madara as he circles, openly admiring the view Kakashi is presenting to him. This is far from the first time Madara has seen him naked, but he still resists the urge to fidget beneath the Uchiha's appreciative scrutiny - years of battle have hardened and scarred his body, and while he isn't ashamed of himself, he doesn't think he'll ever feel comfortable being so exposed.

"I want you to touch yourself for me," Madara finally commands, and crimson eyes follow the motion of Kakashi's hand as he obediently curls it around his cock. Briefly, he wonders where Madara is going with this, but that thought is quickly forgotten, his eyes closing and head tipping back against the wall in pleasure as he strokes himself.

He's close - so close - when Madara orders him to stop. With a frustrated groan, Kakashi obeys, opening his eyes to look at him and letting his hand fall to his side despite the aching need to reach completion. He's not sure what Madara will do if he disobeys - some curious part of him wants to find out, but he's more curious about what he'll do next.

Those crimson eyes meet his again, drawing him into another illusion.

"Please," he whimpers when it breaks, barely registering his own desperate plea. He is painfully hard, would give anything for Madara to touch him, or to be able to touch himself again - anything to ease the ache. "Madara, _please_."

"Not yet," Madara murmurs, reaching up to touch Kakashi's lower lip, forcing his thumb into his mouth. "On your knees." It's not a request, but an order, and Kakashi goes willingly as Madara guides him to the floor. His scarlet glare is a silent warning, telling Kakashi not to move. It takes everything he has to obey, to not give in to the desperate urge to take matters back into his own hands and relieve the pressure. Instead, his hands clench on his knees, and a whimper catches in his throat as Madara divests himself of his pants.

Kakashi's tongue flicks out to wet his dry lips when Madara's fingers wrap around his shaft, hungry eyes following the languid motion of his hand. He leans forward, looking up to meet Madara's eyes and opening his mouth invitingly, but Madara steps back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he shakes his head. His grip shifts slightly, precome gathering at his tip in response to his slow ministrations.

"Sit back and don't move," he orders, waiting until Kakashi sits back on his heels before stepping forward again, so close that all it would take for Kakashi to taste that bead of precome is a quick flick of his tongue - he resists the urge, though, knowing he would likely be punished for the small act of disobedience with a longer delay - or even complete denial - of his own release.

Taking a shuddering breath, Kakashi stills, glancing up for just a moment before letting his gaze fall back to Madara's hand.

"Good," he murmurs, fingers of his free hand trailing along Kakashi's jaw, uncharacteristically gentle as he pulls him in to let his precome smear across his lower lip - and then he pushes him back, tipping his chin up until crimson eyes lock on Kakashi's grey.

Kakashi's grip on his knees tightens when Madara's thumb pushes into the corner of his mouth again, pressing down until his lips part. His slow, self-indulgent pace quickens at the sight of Kakashi's tongue curling around his thumb, and he finally steps forward, and Kakashi opens his mouth.

He waits, relaxing his jaw, the taste of salt and skin heavy on his tongue as he takes Madara in.

"Go ahead." Madara stills, watching as Kakashi draws back, tongue tracing up the vein along the underside of his cock before swirling around his head. It's there he pauses, looking up at Madara once more and raising his hands. Madara nods, and his eyes close as Kakashi's hands press against his knees, sliding slowly up his thighs.

Kakashi relishes in the small moan that escapes Madara when his fingers trail over twin sacs, gently palming them with one hand. Kakashi's name spills from his lips, barely a whisper when he takes him in again, his fingers stroking, hand caressing. He's slow about it, all teasing fingers and tongue - a small bit of payback for Madara's actions. The Uchiha doesn't seem to care, though, all of it forgotten under his ministrations.

He hums with satisfaction as Madara's fingers thread into his hair, and then he's drawing Kakashi up, kissing him hard and fast like he's the only thing that matters in this world, licking the taste of himself from his mouth.

A second later Madara shoves him back once more.

"Bend over the desk," is Madara's next command, and Kakashi's heartbeat thunders painfully against his sternum as he obeys, fingers curling around the edges of the hard wood, body damn near vibrating with anticipation when he hears the telltale click of a bottle opening. "Spread yourself for me."

Kakashi complies, turning his head to watch through half-lidded eyes as Madara slicks his fingers with lube. A shudder wracks his body when Madara touches him, a small, teasing brush of cold fingers against him, gently circling a few times before slowly slipping one inside. He has to bite his lip to stifle a soft moan, instinctively pressing back against Madara's hand.

"So impatient," Madara says with an amused chuckle, but he doesn't protest the movement, instead adding a second finger, his free hand wrapping around his cock when Kakashi moans, grinding back against his fingers. Madara leans down, teasing Kakashi with a third finger and nipping at his ear. "Do you want me to fuck you, Kakashi? Is that what you want?"

"Yes," Kakashi breathes, groaning when Madara withdraws, leaving him feeling empty. "Damn it, Madara-" He's back in an instant, pressing into him gradually, moving forward in careful increments until he's fully seated inside of him. Kakashi exhales at the feeling, hands finding the edge of the desk again when Madara begins to move - slowly, at first, getting used to the feel of him again after being apart for so long, then quickening his pace with each deliberate thrust.

It doesn't take him long to find his mark, adjusting his angle until he finds that spot that has Kakashi gripping the edges of the desk so hard he’s half afraid the wood might break, groaning at the satisfying stretch, the sensation of being filled, of being fucked, of losing himself to Madara and the sounds he's making behind him.

Kakashi will never grow tired of those sounds. His sensitive ears catch every muffled moan and uttered curse and strained breath as Madara fucks him into the desk, the weight of him bearing down on Kakashi's back as he leans forward, hand curling around his throat once more.

"You're mine," Madara breathes low in his ear, teeth marking his signature along the smooth skin of Kakashi's shoulder - they sink in when they reach his neck. Hard, but not quite hard enough to draw blood. He soothes the bite with his tongue even as his fingertips press bruises into Kakashi's throat. "Say it."

"Yours," he manages through teeth gritted against the pressure of Madara's fingers around his neck, grip on the desk tightening when a particularly rough thrust forces his hips into the edge of it. "I'm- fuck, _Madara_ -"

He's so close, the heat that's been flooding through his body pooling low and pulling tight, _just a little more_ -

The edges of his vision go fuzzy when Madara's hand suddenly tightens, and all the air rushes out of him in a single gasp. He hears Madara swear under his breath, voice raw and guttural, and then his hand is gone from Kakashi's throat. He takes hold of Kakashi’s hips in both hands now, both an anchor and a means to pull him back to meet his thrusts, and the absence of Madara's weight and the new space between him and the desk allows Kakashi to move one hand to palm his own neglected cock.

He curls his fingers and strokes just the way he likes it, and the dual sensation of Madara fucking him from behind and the movement of his own hand is the last push he needs. He reaches release with a moan, low and raw, and a few moments later - with a lot more noise - so does Madara.

Kakashi isn't sure how long they stay there, his forehead pressed to the desk and Madara buried inside him, both breathing heavily, but after what feels like a lifetime Madara finally leans down to press a surprisingly soft kiss to his shoulder. It seems his earlier attitude and jealousy are long forgotten.

"Are you all right?" he asks quietly, and when he touches Kakashi's neck again his fingers are gentle, rubbing where he had squeezed. Madara may display himself as a hard man, but with Kakashi, in these quiet, post-coital moments, he is always soft, tender and free with his affections. "I didn't mean to squeeze so hard."

"Trust me," Kakashi responds, voice muffled and a little raspy, laughing softly and turning his head, "I didn't mind. I should make you jealous more often."

In an instant the moment is gone. Madara reacts exactly the way Kakashi expects him to, pulling out of him with a comically disgruntled noise and a sharp slap on the ass, and Kakashi can’t help but laugh laughs when he hears Madara huffing all the way down the hall to the bathroom.

He takes just enough time to peel away the papers stuck to his sweaty chest before following, already thinking of how he’ll apologize to Madara for his teasing.


End file.
